Not Like Last Time
by Mourshkin
Summary: Doby lived and served at Malfoy Manor through the the dark years of Lord Voldemort's first reign. There is a reason why he was so determined to save Harry. He was there the night Severus disclosed the Potter's hiding place. *One-shot, not-quite-canon as it was written while very sleepy (sorry!) and a very upset Snape :'(*


_He recognised that book._

Dobby's body felt like it had been doused in cold fire. He peered from behind the door, hoping and hoping his master would not notice his spying.

"It will be relatively simple to slip it into a student's belongs and after that the diary is sure to do the work for us."

"It is an admirable plan, my dear, but our son, Draco, what if he were hurt in some way?"

"Nonsense, it only goes for mudbloods and traitors. Our son is safe and it is surely worth some discomfort on our part to finally get rid of the Potter brat. And Narcissa, just think of the glory. Of the rewards we will reap when the Dark Lord returns."

Dobby could listen no longer, he scurried down the corridor, running from his master's voice, running from his conscience. You stood by and did nothing once, it said, you stood by and people died. Are you going to do the same now? Are you going to condemn an innocent boy to death for the second time?

No, he wasn't.

TWELVE YEARS EARLIER

Dobby's thin hands trembled as he entered the room. They alway trembled when _he_ was there. At the other end of the vast drawing room a small group of wizards clustered around the fireplace that produced the only light in the cold, night-black room. Dobby looked away from the sillhoutted figures, every muscle taut, screaming at him to run. It was only the powerful magic that chained him to his duty that produced the faltering steps that took him closer and closer to the source of his terror.

A high, hissing laugh, more like a shaking breath, carried across the room and shivered through Dobby's skin. He couldn't stop it, his hands began to tremble even more violently. The glasses on the tray clinked. The horrible, horrible laughing stopped. Three pairs of cold eyes turned on him.

"Useless servant, I apologise my Lord." Malfoy managed to simultaneously grovel to the man whose laughter had been interrupted and glare daggers at his house elf.

"It is inconsequential, Lucius, for nothing could detract from what we have heard this night. The hour at which all the world will fall before me draws near. Thanks to our... enthusiastic young recruit and I am a hair's breath from becoming truly invincible."

The crushed-glass laugh started again and Dobby's eyes grew wide with fear. Invincible? So there truly was no hope. And he was doomed, doomed forever to serve a master who was subordinate to the cruelest, the worst wizard of all time. Tears of despair threatened to spill over his cheeks and he began to shake, clinking the glasses once again.

The noise, however, was covered by the high, exultant tones of the Dark Lord.

"I will leave immediately."

"My Lord?" The quiet, almost panicked enquiry drew Dobby's attention to a pale, gaunt young man he vaguely recognised.

"Ah Severus, do not concern yourself; your loyalty will be justly rewarded... just as soon as the Potters are dead."

The young man gave a despairing, strangled cry. It sounded to Dobby as if something inside him had broken.

"B..b..but my Lord, it is the Potter's son...the death of the parents...the mother..."

Severus' mouthed continued to open and shut mutely but his eyes began to glaze and a deep, deathly shadow of realisation enveloped him. Dobby's attention was drawn away as Lord Voldemort, who had ignored the poor man's stutterings, began to speak again. His voice was full of the taste of victory and death.

"My cloak, Lucius! Await my return, I shall not be long. It really is rather simple - only a few worthless lives stand in the way of my ultimate success. Over in seconds."

Voldemort pulled his cloak about him like a shadow and drew his wand as a wild delight kindled in his eyes.

"In fact, it would be shame to rush the occasion. I'm sure I could have some fun...draw it out."

"NO!"

All eyes flew to the face of the young man. Dobby stared in wonder at the horror in his face. It didn't make sense - why was this informant suddenly repulsed by the consequences of his actions?

"Please my Lord, I beg you... the... the woman, the Potter boy's mother could you not... will you not spare her? I beg you. I would do anything."

Voldemort cast a blank glance towards Severus, not comprehending what was being asked and said coldly -

"You have served me well, do not be ungrateful. Lucius, send word to our followers of what has occurred. I will return when the Potters are dead."

An inhuman cry reverberated around the dark room. Severus crumpled to the floor.

"Stop, no, please stop."

But the Dark Lord had disaperated, he was gone.

The pitiful whispered words sank, cold as ice, into the house elf's heart. The most evil wizard of all time had just gone to achieve his final, terrible victory. And Dobby had done nothing. So many times had he stood by while his masters discussed with glee their plans of death and destruction. And every time, he had done nothing. And now it was too late. Now there was no one left in the world to defeat the wizard he feared most. Dobby had stood and listen and understood... and he had done nothing.

"You - put down that tray and fetch my wife; there is something I must discuss with her."

His master's voice was cold and loud in Dobby's ears. Something inside him snapped. It wasn't the invisible chains that bound him, but something did change. Irrevocably. Calmly, he loosened his grip on the tray of drinks. On hitting the floor, the glasses splintered, flying in all directions.

"How dare you?! Mindless elf! Clean up this mess and then do as I ordered."

Dobby lifted his eyes from his feet and stared straight at Lucius. He did not blink.

Malfoy glared back, but unerved by the empty gaze, he looked away. With a final glance of disgust at the still-staring house elf and the sobbing man, he stalked out of the room in a flutter of robes.

Dobby watched him go.


End file.
